


John Murphy One Shots

by meggann1



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: F/M, RL Stine, RL Stines The Haunting Hour, Scarecrow - Freeform, The Haunting Hour, Zombies, the walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggann1/pseuds/meggann1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of John Murphy one-shots with aspects from other TV shows and movies added in the mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I'll always write my works in first person just because it's easier for me, but I always make sure to make it Y/N rather than my own name or OC. Basically, it's some alternate plot I thought of for John Murphy, and this is what I came up with. I added in walkers (zombies) because I tend to mix in aspects from other shows and movies into oneshots. Enjoy! x

Murphy and I ran to where our people were escaping, but I knew we weren't going to make it. Murphy didn't know, didn't know the plan everyone had spewed up against him. I knew because I was there, and I didn't speak a word as they planned to leave him behind. I couldn't let that happen. Murphy did awful things and wasn't my favorite person in the world, but I refuse to lose my humanity. I'm not going to leave one of my own behind, alone and stranded only to die before the night's out. I'm better than that. 

So, whilst everyone was gathering up supplies to take on their boats, I easily slipped out of camp and ran after Murphy. I knew I didn't have much time, and this chance was as good as any, but I should have known we would have never made it. I didn't want to face the fact that they'd leave without one of their own, plus one since they hadn't realized I left them. 

Murphy had been banished from our camp, but I secretly helped him out and showed him the bunker Finn and I found when we first got here. He stayed there the entire time, and I had to be careful about visiting him due to rising suspicions throughout the camp. Only those close to me knew where I was going: Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Jasper, and Monty. None of them liked Murphy, but they respected me and the fact that I wouldn't just let him roam these woods alone. If anything, me protecting Murphy made them adore me more than they already do, because they know that I appreciate all life, good or bad. 

We climbed up the hill that stood just outside the camp, and once we reached the top, my heart broke in two. Everyone was gone and nothing but dead bodies roamed what was once our home. They were overrun. These walkers have ruined my life, and now are the reason Murphy and I are all alone. 

I felt tears prick at my eyes, and I didn't feel like standing anymore. My limbs felt weak and so I dropped to my knees, letting out a small cry. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I placed my face in my hands, allowing myself to completely break down. It's been too long since I've released my emotions. For the longest time I've been keeping everything bottled up, for my people, for the ones who left me. I did it for them so that they'd think I was strong, and would still have reason to follow in my command. But now that my people have left me, I don't have to be strong for anybody. I can cry and scream at the sky and slowly begin to hate everything. For so long I've been the light spirit among my people, and was always making everyone smile or laugh or feel good. All this time I've been nothing but happiness and joy, and I hate it. People walk all over me and now I've been left behind with a criminal because of it.

“Y/N, we have to go,” Murphy rushed, and I glanced up to see walkers roaming dangerously close to us. 

I wiped away my tears, slowly rising to my feet and pulling out my sword. Murphy called my name again but I ignored him, charging after the closest walker and shoving my sword through it's head. I pressed my boot to it's body and pushed it back, pulling my sword out and swinging it to my left where another walker was approaching me. 

On my right, a walker grabbed my arm and I let out a frustrated scream, tossing my sword to my other hand and decapitating the walker. The rest were yards away from me, so I used the small amount of time I had to let out all of my anger, raising my sword above my head and striking it down on the dead walkers body. With each hit I let out a scream, feeling more tears build up in my eyes. Blood splattered on my face and neck but I didn't care. I practically tore the walker apart, and when I rose my sword again, I felt a hand latch onto my arm and stop my movements. 

I could see Murphy looking at me from the corner of my eye, a concerned look on his face. He gently wrapped his fingers around my sword and took it out of my grasp, slipping it into his empty sword-pouch. My breathing was erratic as I stared down at the hatched up walker, a single tear falling down my cheek. 

“We have to go,” he said more calmly this time, and I obliged, turning my back to my camp just like my people did to me, and starting off into the woods. 

.. 

Murphy ended up leading us back to the bunker, because where else were we supposed to go? Once we got there, night time was approaching and I was exhausted. I nonchalantly lied down in his bed and he sat opposite of me, his back against the wall and his curious eyes on me. I didn't blame him for looking at me differently now. But I decided to stop thinking and put my mind to rest. 

When I woke up, I couldn't tell if it was only minutes or hours later, but I assumed hours since I felt well rested. I let out a small sigh, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. I looked over at Murphy and wasn't surprised to see his eyes still on me, a blank expression on his face. Did he even sleep? 

“You knew,” he spoke up, and the instant he said that I felt my heart swell in my chest. Of course I knew, I was part of the camp, I was their leader, they trusted me. 

I looked at the ground, not being able to look him in the eyes before giving him a small nod. 

“Thank you, for trying..” he trailed off. 

I peered up at him, surprised that out of all the things he could have said to me, it was that. I knew my people were wrong about him. I saw the monster in him that everyone else did, but it was just that, inside of him. He wasn't the monster, he isn't a monster, he's a human being. All of us were good in one way or another, even Murphy. He took the lives of others and he's been a complete and utter asshole to people who had done nothing wrong to him, but he's done good things too. He stayed away from the camp when told to, he appreciated my small acts of kindness when I occasionally checked up on him, and now when I tried to save the both of us. Murphy is a working progress, but at least he's working; he's not broken, not yet. 

“I'm sorry about earlier,” I muttered, suggesting to my breakdown. Now that I thought about it, I was embarrassed and ashamed. I never stooped down to that level, and if I did it definitely wasn't in front of anybody. Me doing that probably only brought Murphy down, and I never liked being the reason someone wasn't anything but happy. I have to make people more than sadness and despair, it's my job. 

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, “how long have you been holding that inside?” 

I sighed, “a long time.” 

He placed his hands in his lap and started to pick at his nails, his eyebrows drawn together in thought, “you're a good person, you know.”

I flashed him a sad smile, “I'm not even sure of that anymore.” My people probably think of me as a traitor now, especially for helping Murphy. They're smart people, so I doubt it's taken them long to realize I'm gone purely because I went back for Murphy. When they think of him, they think of a psychopathic traitor, and I've been helping him. I've been helping a person who murdered two of our people and treated the rest like scum, because of my stupid belief in humanity still existing. Maybe it doesn't. I've always wanted to be the good guy, and I thought I was doing the right thing, but maybe there's no good guys left. What if we're all just bad? 

“I wouldn't have came back for me,” he admitted, his eyes trained on his hands. I didn't expect him to look at me whilst saying any of this. I knew this was hard for him, and I'm proud of him for even expressing the slightest of emotion. 

“Yes, you would have.” 

He looked up at me, scanning my face as if to see if I was speaking seriously. Once he realized I was, something flashed behind his eyes; a feeling I didn't even know he was familiar with: hope. 


	2. Scarecrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious salesman peaks everyone's interest, especially the sister of John Murphy who was given a scarecrow as a gift from the salesman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading this, I suggest going onto netflix and watching RL Stine's The Haunting Hour, because I only vaguely explained what happened and then created my own alternate ending. Each episode is a different story, and this writing is based off an episode in season 2 called Scarecrow. (The episodes are only about twenty minutes each.) Richard Harmon starred in it, so rather than keeping his character as Bobby, the name he had in the episode, I decided to just change him to John Murphy. Gotta love Murphy. Enjoy! x

My heart thumped in my chest as I stealthily followed the salesman onto Murphy's farm. I didn't know his name, though, I didn't care to know his name. I hadn't payed much mind to his face either, because I knew that if I somehow got out of this, I'd have nightmares or constant thoughts about the one thing I remembered him by. So, I decided that I wouldn't remember him at all after this. He's just a fucked up salesman, that's all he'll ever be. Well, soon he'll be gone too. 

I was friends with Murphy, and so I was aware of this rather creepy scarecrow that the salesman sold to Murphy's sister, Jenny. Technically though, he didn't sell it to her, he gave it to her for free, and that's what spiked a weird feeling in me. No one in this town just gives things away for free, especially so ominously. It's a poor town figuring we depend on our farms and animals, so people snatch onto every penny they find. There's no way in hell he'd just give something away for free, especially a scarecrow. They keep the crows away, and therefore keep the crops – like corn – from being destroyed by them. That results in more food for the family, as well as benefits. Basically, it does nothing but good and guarantees profit of some kind, which people do not want in this town. 

Everybody wants the best farm, with the most productive animals, with the healthiest crops, to earn the most money. It's all kind of silly to me figuring I've never been a farm girl. I'm that one girl in the town who kind of despises this lifestyle. I mean, there's nothing terribly wrong with it, and people – such as Murphy – dedicating their lives to it is admirable, but it's just not for me. I like to wear skinny jeans and combat boots and dye my hair pretty colors and get piercings and tattoos. I guess you can consider me the towns punk, but I'm far from mean. In fact, I know I'm a nice person. But this is completely besides the point. 

This salesman guy is bizarre. The first incident with him was when he came into the shop I own. Since I refused to work on the farm and pull weeds, step in manure, and groom horses, my parents declared I have a job of some sort. This shop was closing, and so I decided to buy it myself and run it. I'm my only employee, with the exception of my brother who I ask to run things every once in a while. But figuring it's such a small store, I don't really need help. 

Anyway, Murphy and Jenny had come by to buy something, and I was too distracted with reading a poem and listening to music to hear them come in. When I noticed them, I started to read the poem aloud to them after having a conversation about it, and out of nowhere, the salesman steps in and begins to recite the entire poem. He remembered it word for word, which was quite impressive, but when he added just a comment or two after and then left, I knew something was up. He didn't even buy anything, and he just gave me a gross feeling. I could tell Murphy felt the same way by the look on his face. 

But Jenny didn't. She liked him, in fact she talked to him later that day, and that's when he gave her the scarecrow. She loved it, thought it was a nice gesture, and continued with dressing it up. That night is when weird things started happening. I didn't see any of it, but Jenny told me quite a lot, and I believed her. Her dog went missing, and then all of their farm animals went missing. I experienced that for myself, because the same happened with my family's farm. She claimed that the scarecrow would move, and end up in places no one put it. Sounds paranormal to me, but I knew it was the salesman. Tue scarecrow was his after all.

The following day when I woke up, everyone was gone. Every living thing. Silence was all that pierced my ears and it was the deadliest sound I have ever heard. So instinctively, the first place I ran to was Murphy's. Once I got there, I heard a car engine, and for a few moments I was at peace with the sound, until I realized it belonged to the salesman. 

That leads to now. The salesman was walking into Murphy's house and so I grabbed the first thing I saw, which happened to be a log of wood, and followed him. As I stepped onto the porch, I heard talking, and I ever-so-slightly peered into the window to see the salesman's back to me, Murphy stepping away from him as he spoke. Though anxiety was all I felt coursing through my veins, I felt slight relief knowing that Murphy was still here, and I wasn't the only damn person left in this town. But, why did he leave me? It's clear that he had something to do with everyones disappearances, and he has a fetish for messing with Murphy's family. He kept Murphy, but he didn't need to keep me here. I should be gone, at wherever everyone else is, because I'm not part of this family. Then again, this could be his plan. Maybe he knows I'm here now and wants me to show myself so he can hurt the both of us. 

My pulse thumped in my ears and I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to rid myself of my thoughts. I was being ridiculous. This salesman is a fool, and failed to make me disappear with everyone else, and that's all there is to it. Hopefully. 

“Everyone is gone but you,” the salesman mocked Murphy. 

I felt anger take over me and I stepped into view, Murphy's eyes falling on me. 

I held the wooden log above my head, “and me, asshole.” Before he could react, I struck the wooden log down on his skull and his eyes fluttered shut as he collapsed to the ground. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, staring down at the limp body in shock. Did I really just do that? 

“Y/N?” Murphy whispered in uncertainty. 

I smiled, stepping over the salesmans body and pulling Murphy into a hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around him and he let out a sigh of relief, hugging me just as tight. 

“Where's Jenny?” I asked. 

He pulled back, his eyebrows drawn together as he glanced at the salesman, “gone, like everyone else..” he trailed off sadly. 

I frowned, “I'm sorry.”

His eyes were glossy from tears threatening to spill but he blinked them away. I think this was the first time I had ever seem him show any type of negative emotion in front of me. All I ever saw was his smirk, smug face, and I occasionally heard his contagious laugh. I always knew there was more to him than just sarcasm and crappy jokes, just never knew if he'd let me see this other side of him or not.

“What are we going to do with him?” 

I thought for a moment, “I have an idea.” 

.. 

Murphy nailed his last hand to the stake of wood, hopping down from the stool he stood on and taking a step back, standing beside me to admire our work of art. I thought I would feel some sort of satisfaction out of doing this, knowing that he's now become his own weapon, but I felt nothing. I had taken the stuffing out of the salesman's scarecrow and we put his body into it instead, stitching it up and hanging him up in the middle of the corn field. 

We didn't kill him, though Murphy wanted to, and so the slight fear of him somehow returning to our lives nagged at the back of my mind. But as of now, he was unconscious and trapped inside of a scarecrow, nailed to wooden planks. It'd take him a while to remove himself from it, that's if he manages to not suffocate first. 

Either way, we were leaving this town, not that there was much to say goodbye to. Everyone and everything was gone, and we didn't know if they were to ever come back. I just prayed he didn't wipe out all of human existence, because then we're fucked. Though, I'm probably giving him too much credit.

“He's not bleeding,” Murphy pointed out, and at first I had no clue what he was talking about. I followed his pointed finger with my eyes, falling on the hands of the scarecrow. I then realized what he was saying, and he was right. We used long nails to pin his hands and feet to the wooden planks, nailing them right through his body. Technically speaking, there should be blood seeping through the scarecrow, but there isn't, there's nothing. 

I then shrugged, “scarecrows don't bleed.” 

He looked at me, giving me the slightest smirk, “yeah, lets get out of here.”


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You talk to Murphy about your nightmares, something he has as well. Maybe your words have an impact on him afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small/cute scenario I thought of! x

John Murphy and I were always the last two up late at night. We'd sit by the fire, diagonal from one another, and basically avoid eye contact. I didn't really know him, I just knew what everyone said about him. That he was a murderer and relentless and selfish, and more things that I didn't like to think about. I saw some of the chaos he created around himself, but I'd like to think of him as just troubled. People don't just do things for the hell of it, especially if it's something negative. There's always a motive, usually always some sob story. I guarantee Murphy has one, one that I don't necessarily care to hear, but it's there. 

He doesn't owe me anything, which some people think he owes them everything and more. It's ridiculous, at least to me. I never say anything, because he can stick up for himself and he's made that quite clear. He's never done anything terrible to me, at least not yet, and so I have no reason to dislike him. Even after hearing rumors about him, I still can't dislike him, because they're just that: rumors. I don't know the true story, don't know the real John Murphy. I'm just as clueless as the next, but I don't allow myself to presume him guilty. The world shouldn't work like that anymore, shouldn't have ever. 

Despite us both being rather strong people, at least mentally, I was aware of one thing we struggled with: nightmares. I have them almost every night about, well, everything. The Grounders hurting us, the deaths of our people, my parents being floated; every tragedy in my life has turned into nightly terrors. One night, I woke up from one and decided to walk around to clear my head. That's when I heard Murphy shuffling in his tent, and a few whimpers fall from his lips. Of course I thought he was doing something else, something cringeworthy that would give me worse nightmares than I already had. But when I peeked into his tent, I saw the unbreakable Murphy being tortured by whatever played behind his eyelids. I felt sorry for him, because I understood. I figured he dreamt about his tragedies as well. 

So on a typical night, where we were both sat in similar positions from the night before, staring into the fire, I spoke. I had a feeling I'd be the first to spark up our first real conversation. We've had typical chit-chat before but it was more so bickering. He'd spit out some snide remark at me and I'd just give him a soft smile and carry on my way. I think it drove him slightly insane that I never added fuel to his fire, but that wasn't me. I embrace solutions and peace, not trouble. 

“I have them too: nightmares,” I started. His head picked up and his eyes met mine briefly, before he peered back into the fire. 

I toyed with my fingers in my lap, furrowing my eyebrows, “sometimes they're about The Grounders attacking us, losing our people and losing myself. Other times it's up on the ark, my parents being floated and me just watching. So, I get it. We all have our demons and our battles. It's just a matter of if you let people in to help you fight them.” 

He let out a small sigh, “am I supposed to care?” He questioned with the roll of his eyes. 

I rose to my feet, looking at him, “you were supposed to listen, and you did. So thanks for that.” 

His eyes flickered up to me, but before I could allow myself to decipher the look on his face, I turned my back to him and walked to my tent. I'd like to think that I had some sort of impact on him, even if it was only for a bit. 

That night, I stayed awake all night to avoid my nightmares. Murphy didn't have any, and he slept rather peacefully. I think if I had fallen asleep too, I wouldn't have had any either.


End file.
